


you're the center of my day

by socialcsualty



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mood Swings, So much angst, Song fic, basically harry is v sad and also v happy, dare4distance, harry's a college student, louis is mostly oblivious, louis's a glorified english nerd w outstanding social skills, mentions of angst/depression, nevershoutnever, v side ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:41:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socialcsualty/pseuds/socialcsualty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Although the distance is daring,<br/>I sure know what it's like to be alone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're the center of my day

**Author's Note:**

> concept inspired by: dare4distance by nevershoutnever
> 
> edit: the work says 1/1 chapter, this will actually be 5, I just haven't figured out how to work this site quite yet, bear with me y'all!

_“Mondays, I sleep away.”_

Harry is always tired. He never plans to stay on the phone with Louis until godforsaken hours of the morning; but Harry suffers withdrawal from the moment they kiss goodbye and he has to watch Louis’s shitty car drive away from him. Five days is always too long.

He also made the mistake of signing up for a morning psych class on Mondays. So instead of wallowing in his post-Louis depression, Harry drags himself out of bed and forces caffeine-rich black tea down in order to stay awake during class.

It wasn’t always this hard. Harry didn’t always study four hours away from Louis’s studio apartment, and Louis wasn’t always busy with his double life (working the indie bookstore, The Tattered Cover, by day and writing novels he never publishes by night). They weren’t always braving five days a week without each other.

They were spoiled in the beginning; when Louis was Niall’s project and Niall was Harry’s long-time best friend and roommate. Louis was living on the streets, kicked out when his stepfather discovered him kissing another boy. But Aiden had abandoned him in fear of similar treatment, leaving Louis to fend for himself. Harry remembers Niall’s generosity like it was yesterday, because that was the day he met the sun.

*******

_It’s starting to snow and Harry’s cold-numbed fingers have dropped his keys for the third time now. He stoops to pick them up, cursing London’s constant forecast of shit weather. Although his flatmate’s car is in the driveway, Niall seems to have no interest in helping him in, so Harry ends up inside with lightly blue fingertips._

_“Thanks for all your help, Niall.” Harry shrugs his coat off, dusting snow on the floor. Admittedly, Harry has many pairs of shoes, but he knows neither him nor Niall owns the pair of battered TOMS he sees while trying to sweep the snow into the coat closet. “Niall?” Harry wanders into the kitchen, peeking his head in._

_“Shhh!” Niall makes an appearance, toeing quietly down the stairs. His cautious behavior isn’t even the strangest part of Harry’s homecoming; it’s what comes out of Niall’s mouth next._

_“Louis’s sleeping upstairs.”_

_Harry does a double take._

_“Okay, who the hell is Louis, number one--” Harry is momentarily interrupted by Niall’s harsh shushing, “--and number two, why is there a stranger sleeping in our house?” Niall sighs, walking towards the living room._

_“Look, it’s not my story to tell. But can you just trust me, please? He’s just someone who needs our help.”_

_It’s moments like these when Harry loves Niall the most. His selflessness perfectly compliments Harry’s innate need to make people happy, thus making them the perfect team of humanity’s helpers. Admittedly, they’ve had to spend marginally more on groceries to help feed the bums around their neighborhood, but it’s worth it to see the gratitude on their faces. At least, that’s how Harry sees it. Niall just spreads happiness like wildfire, his charity comes naturally._

_However, people don’t usually stay in their home, which is the cause for Harry’s concern._

_“I do trust you… I’d just to like to know more about the strange man that’s currently residing in one of our bedrooms.”_

(This is the moment Harry remembers the most).

_“Well, my name is Louis, I enjoy tea to an unhealthy degree, and I’ve been living on the streets for close to month now. Anything else?” A high-pitched -- albeit, still masculine -- voice sounds from the stairs, and Harry turns to see the source._

_The first thing he sees are eyes the color of the sky._

*******

After suffering through Psych, Harry closes himself in his dorm. He knows Liam will berate him about “unhealthy behavior” and “co-dependency,” but he’s used to nodding in all the right places and pretending to consider going out for dinner. Guys who’re in a stable relationship with the equivalent of a Greek god (who conveniently lives across the hall) generally have nothing to worry about.

Maybe this is co-dependency, but he’d rather be mildly obsessed than passive. Louis is a firecracker, hard to keep up with. A little passion never hurts, not in Louis’s case. Especially when Harry’s syrupy-slow words fill all the spaces between Louis’s bursts of sizzling light.

The problem with their dynamic is when Louis’s brightness goes elsewhere, Harry settles into a slow, lackadaisical rhythm that makes everything move in slow motion, including himself.

Harry sleeps to counteract this problem. If he isn’t moving at all, he isn’t moving at a maddeningly slow pace. The only thing that wakes him is the sound of his phone. They can only text during the day, Louis’s work doesn’t allow time for phone calls, and Harry can only talk at night, when sleep weighs his words and makes him sound less needy, less pining.

Louis can’t know how bad Harry gets. Can’t know the dread that settles itself in the pit of Harry’s stomach when he leaves, can’t know the stinging in his eyes when he wakes up to a cold bed and empty, reaching arms. Louis can’t know how sluggish Harry gets, how he gets scared when he jolts awake, dream-Louis’s voice echoing, _“I can’t do this anymore…”_

However unwarranted his paranoia is, Harry’s worry chips away at his mind. Louis’s always been more independent than him, always been the one to float around parties and talk easily to everyone there. He always knows someone, somewhere, asks about their great-Aunt Liv or second cousin Mary. Harry is his shadow, fingers toying with the edge of Louis’s shirt or hooked through his belt loops. His role is to murmur agreeably and laugh in all the right places, provide the fuel to Louis’s fire. Not that Louis’s ever imposed that role onto him; Harry’s content to fade into the shadows while Louis takes the spotlight.

And it works, _they_ work, they’ve always worked. It works because although Harry’s taller by more than a few inches, when he’s feeling glass-fragile and paper-thin, Louis’s small frame curves into his larger one until they’re a tangle of limbs and heartbeats. It works because when Louis shines too brightly for the general population, Harry reins him in; gently pressing long fingers into the crease of his petite wrist or tracing the delicate curve of his spine. Louis softens immediately under Harry’s feather-light touch, edges blending into Harry’s until they blur as one.

The only issue being, Harry doesn’t know how to function alone. He’s the moon that can’t shine without the sun. With Louis, he’s a palette of watercolor sunrises. Alone, he’s the confused gray of all the colors bled together.

**Author's Note:**

> hello! please check out this song, it's super sweet and sad, and when I heard it, I instantly though of h&l and I hope you will too. bear with me on this one, this first chapter alone took me like 2 months to write. updates will be sooner than that, seeing as how I've planned the rest of this out. I'd love some feedback, but even if I receive none, thanks for reading, love!


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